The Unending First Contact War
by Skylar Silverwind
Summary: AU fanifc. What if the first contact war didn't end? What if humanity did not reach the stars so peacefully? This is the tale of those who fought the First Contact War
1. Jason Harris I

Ambassador Kurt Stevenson sighed as he looked over the files on his screen. So much blood, so much hate, had stained humanity.

For almost a century, the First Contact War had claimed billions of lives. Worlds had been burned, fleets had been shattered, and the entire balance of power had shifted and changed beyond all imagining. And before that, the First Inter Planetary War. And before that World War IV. It seemed as if it was humanities destiny to spread war across the stars.

Closing almost everything, he brought up the logs of the First Contact War. A comprehensive document, there was no secret unrevealed, no treachery or mistake covered up. With it, he could see and feel just what the war became from the eyes of the soldiers that fought it on both sides.

Opening it at a random page, he started to read it once more.

* * * * *

**November 13, 2165**

**7 years into the First Contact War**

**Planet Solcar IV**

It was utter hell in the the stars above the planet. The seventy ships of the Tenth Fleet were locked in battle with 80 enemy ships. So far, both sides had lost half their forces, and the inevitable ground war would soon begin.

No matter what, despite the heroics of the local freighter convoy in evacuating the research complex on planet, critical personnel and equipment were still there.

Meaning that me, Lieutenant Jason Harris, would need to lead a ground team to protect the complex until a heavy-lift shuttle could be sent. If it could sent at all. Fun.

I looked over my gear. The M-80 was a real piece of work. More durable than even the fabled AK line, it was the only small-arms assault rifle capable of comparing to Turian weapons. Sadly, even then, a good number of the secondary functions were still primitive, and could not take much heat in grenade launcher mode. Still, damn good weapon, especially compared to the crap that was the M-25.

That being said, my armor wasn't the best. The exosuits going into production were all reserved for commando and front-line assault units at the time, and the production of mark twelve polyplate eternads was nowhere near demand, meaning I was stuck with a mark ten, more fun.

My squad was no better off. The tenth fleet had been hastily assembled to deal with the need for more ships and was thus not well equipped. Fingering the old toothbrush strung to my tags, I took a minute to think about just what life would be like without the constant war going on. But I got nothing, whatever memories I had were only of war now.

The alarm rang. Time to drop. I mounted onto the APC and sealed the hatch. The countdown began.

"_All units, seal hatches. Prepare for spacedrop."_ The tanks and APC's rolled onto the dropships, disposable one-shot fancy space-to-ground gliders that could carry a tank or a platoon of infantry. The icy conditions on planet made the choice clear. All fifty dropships carried vehicles.

"I hate this." I muttered as I stuffed a gumshield between my teeth.

"_Drop!"_

Strangest thing though is that this operation reminded me of my first one. Which was almost exactly like this. Only worse.

_* * * * *_

Curious, Kurt went a few pages back. He was currently in the journal of former General Jason Harris, a former war hero before and even after his death in 2181. Finally he found his first battle, the A-day Invasion, the first major ground war against the Turians.

* * * * *

**May 16, 2159**

**1 Year into the First Contact War**

**En Route to Planet Atero**

History would hail this day as the turning point of the blitz. 'No more running' they would say. 'It stops here.' And so we were sent out, half-prepared, on a suicidal counterattack on the Turian homebase.

To say things were cramped was a damn understatement. I didn't even have a bunk, being a lowly private. Only a locker, and a sleeping tube. Even then, we still had to hot bunk. I didn't know who shared it with me, but damn if he didn't reek. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The USS Hope (United Solar Systems for those of you unwilling to reference a dictionary) was the ark that carried over fifteen thousand soldiers to our target. It was half complete, ugly, and underarmed for its size at five aircraft carriers. All it had was a few dozen gauss turrets for defense and only two layers of shields to protect it because its armor was a joke. The same joke applied to the thirty dropships we had. Made me wonder just why we were sent out when we still needed five months of training. Then Dave explained.

We were running out of time. No matter what, the colonies were burning. The frontier fleet wasn't out chasing the Turian armada, it was on the run from them and hasn't been heard from for weeks. As Dave said "We go half ready, or not at all."

And go we did. It a massive and ugly piece of work and not even fully painted. Heck, we had to do the painting. Ships engineers were too busy still building the thing. The escorts weren't better off according to Katrina, just corvettes, frigates, and destroyers of varying quality. Heck, I even saw a Q-ship out a viewport once.

For six months we trained, painted, fixed, and did almost everything onship the crew and the overworked men on Mars couldn't. I bet I could have earned a degree in engineering after that if I tried. But I learned a few grim facts in the process. The computers were buggy, sometimes going down altogether, but the backup system was more reliable, ish. But the grimmer fact was that we only had fifteen upships, Proper shuttles that didn't have anywhere near the carrying capacity of a dropship but could land and take off again multiple times. Scuttlebutt was that we only had enough fuel and upships for half our people. Meaning the bigheads at the Pentagon thought we would take at least 50% casualties. They were so wrong.

One silver lining I had on that trip was Olivia. Almost every chance we had to be together we took. Admittedly, it almost led to my third court offense, if it weren't for the fact our good general was a little lax on the rules. He knew it was a suicide mission and we had the right to spend the last months of our lives doing whatever that made peace with ourselves. Or prevented use from being pycho wrecks. Still didn't stop him from giving the talk though.

Skipping ahead, by the time we reached the last relay, I did what I always tried to do for the past two years, tell Olivia how I felt. I did. She said no. I was to be attached to the General's guard, she was a dropship pilot. When we hit the dirt, I was supposed to be the one to bite the bullet for the man, while she would stay with the secondary units as a auxiliary. Things didn't turn out that way.

But still, she said no because she was afraid of losing me. Gods, how that turned around.


	2. Nathan Laurel I

Pausing, Kurt thought about Jason's words. According to records, he was barely 20 when the invasion was sent. At that time, the war was referred to as "The Blitz" as the Turians swept across human worlds as the overstretched and understrength United Systems Navy didn't stand a chance against the overwhelming Turian fleet. And that was only half of their Ninth Fleet. Looking on it, he realized he actually knew little of the first years of the war.

Flipping around, he opened up another chapter. This time, later in the war. Much later.

* * * * *

**January 1, 2174**

**19 years into the FCW**

//////Mission Log//////

Objective: Defense of critical materials convoy through contested space.

Mission Assets:

USS Merlin: Keep-class heavy cruiser, designated command ship.

USS Yale: Pillar-class light cruiser

RSAS Zemski: Lobachevski-class light cruiser

Destination: Ardainia System

E.T.A.: Five days.

* * * * *

/////Mission Log/////

Enemy Interception

Location: at New London system

Enemy Assets:

Five heavy cruisers

Four light cruisers

Twelve Destroyers

Ninteen Frigates

AAR

67% enemy losses

25% Human military losses.

0% Human Civilian losses.

* * * * *

Journal Log: January First

Today is the start of the new year. Wish it were better. Escorting supply convoys isn't a glorious job, but its necessary. At the very least, I finally managed to have the Merlin outfitted with the newest gear, so we might be able to stand one-on-on with a Turian cruiser. Kinetic impactors, Mark nine atomic missiles, and brand new defense lasers. Hope they work. We're entering contested space soon.

Commander Nathan Laurel

* * * * *

Journal Log: January Third

So far, clear sailing. Another day and another relay and we might get away clean and return to the front. Got a encrypted message from command stating they need us with the third fleet ASAP. The Eleventh got mauled stopping the latest dreadnought push. This mean that the Turians got at least two of those things. And god help us if they have more.

ADDENDUM

Enemy contact at 2230 hours.

* * * * *

/////Recording////

**AAR: Gunner Miranda Nates**

ONI: You may start when ready.

Miranda: The battle was, scary at first. There were so many of the enemy. More than three times our number.

ONI: Go on.

Miranda: The commander ordered us to battlestations, brought us to bear on the enemy. I went to my post, cannon one-bravo, and awaited a firing solution. Then everything went as a blur.

ONI: Can you elaborate?

Miranda: The damn bird-heads used a frakking missile cruiser. Over a hundred missiles got volleyed in a minute. The Commander ordered interception, all guns.

ONI: That was a bit of a rash decision wasn't it? Everything devoted to deflecting missiles.

Miranda: No, it wasn't. If he didn't order that, the convoy's defense wouldn't have lasted a minute. He ordered for us to draw the enemies fire, get their attention drawn away from the other ships and onto us. If it wern't for him, we would have all died.

ONI: Yes, the Merlin's timely upgrade of its defense lasers certainly mattered.

Miranda: Are you accusing my commander of something?

ONI: I am simply curious that he managed to obtain such a advanced reverse-engineered technology on such short notice. I am also curious as to how he acquired it so easily.

Miranda: Now you listen to me! Commander Nathan Laurel was the damn finest commander I have ever known! If he didn't defend that convoy we never would have gotten the Titan online! He saved millions that day and you know it! And don't you dare slander his memory with your bald-faced accusations! He deserves more respect than that!

ONI: ...

ONI: Indeed.

/////End Recording/////

* * * * *

**March 13, 2174**

**Apocalypse Station**

**Navy High Command**

Transcript from Officer meeting XPD-14514514

Davidson: Gentlemen, its that time again. The politicians want their poster boy.

Charles: God damnit. Every damn year they want some poor sap to read their damn speeches and be their scapegoat.

Wilson: Gods yes, they still haven't gotten over using Harris as their argument for loosing the ground war. Poor boy.

Davidson: Yes, I heard he's been shuffled from one suicide assignment to another. Don't those bigwigs know that these boys just can't handle the meatgrinder this war is becoming?

Charles: Hmm. Well, getting back on topic, just who are we going to sacrifice this time?

Wilson: Can't we just make one up? Like Olglivy?

Charles: No, they found out about that remember? We can't just make it up.

Davidson: I'm thinking, about a certain Commander Nathan Laruel.

Charles: Hes real?

Davidson: Yes, but KIA. Died defending a critical materials convoy. I've seen the recordings. Damn heroic.

Charles: The bigwigs want someone living. Still, that will give them something to gnaw at until we find someone.

Wilson: I can't believe we do this to our honored dead.

Davidson: Cheer up man. I don't like this anymore than you do, but the public needs this. Anything to keep up morale is worth doing.

Wilson: Still doesn't feel right.

Charles: Nothing feels right about this war.

/////End Transcript/////

* * * * *

**Liberty News**

**March 24, 2174**

**HEROIC CAPTAIN SAVES MILLIONS!**

In a daring holding action, Captain Nathan Laruel saved millions of lives defending a military supply convoy and stopping a cunning Turian raid against the colonies of the New England cluster. Over the course of the battle, over two dozen enemy ships were disabled or destroyed, while not a single freighter was harmed.

More details on page A3


	3. Jason Harris II

Kurt sighed. Such recycling of fallen soldiers and sailors was all too common. Worse in that it would come to bite them in the ass forty years later in Laurel's case.

Placing a bookmark, one of hundreds, he decided he would return to it later. Meanwhile, he went back to the case of Jason Harris.

* * * * *

**July 4, 2159**

**1 Year into the First Contact War**

**Planet "Hope"**

By the time the guns quieted we did it. Every damn Turian was dead. We only had less than six hundred after our reenactment of the Light Brigade while storming their headquarters but by god we did it.

But still, out of fifteen thousand, six hundred. The birdies were damn tough. Those fancy guns cut through our armor. They knew where we were day and night. We lost the general on day 22. I lost Olivia on day 1. Dave went down with his ship to kill most of the enemy. He told me to take care of Katrina, something I damn well planned to. If she survived pregnacy first. Seriously, angry MG gunner plus bearing a kid is not a good combo.

The worst part of all of this is the weight on my shoulders. General's badges, even acting ones, weigh a solid ton each in responsibility.

Through our newly captured inter-relay radio, we transmitted a message to Earth telling them everything that happened. They showered up with promises of medals and promotions and even let me keep my general's badges for real. At the time, I was just happy they said the Liberty Star was a month away, not caring about anything else.

I had no idea what was coming for me when I got home. Not a single clue.

* * * * *

**August 25, 2159**

**1 Year into the First Contact War**

**Planet Earth**

My old training sergeant once told me that "No matter where you go, you always end up where you began." In my case, it was Earth. And it didn't help that my old drill sarge was on the Liberty.

Despite it still recovering from WW4, there would never be a more beautiful sight in my eyes. Despite the wars that burned it, tore it up, and bled it, it was still there. And now we could get back to healing it and letting our old grievances die.

That was a quote from President Irons by the way. Word for word.

And then she let fall the Liberty Policy.

Major cuts in defense spending, shutdown of almost every hidden military installation and half the military shipyards. According to her "It is time we put down our guns and talked." By that she meant sending probes to the Turians to beg for peace.

The hardest part was shutting down the space marines. A single space-borne soldier's training, feeding, equipping, and maintaining was worth a year's worth of Alpha-level rations and medcare for a family. And so, under subsection 42b dash three-five-nine-nine, we were steadily discharged from military service and given quintupled pensions. Except me.

I, was a hero. According to the media, I single-handedly held off a entire company of Turians with nothing but a rifle. According to the press, I led the charge on the orbital batteries, uncovering a traitor doing so. According to the historians, I would be remembered for hearing the last words of my inspiring general telling me to save what was left of the army under fire and then leading them in a daring last stand until I made the hard choice of sacrificing our only way home.

Except none of that happened. It was either all lies or truths twisted and stretched beyond belief. I held off a company with a rifle, with a hundred other men and heavy fortifications. I didn't lead the charge, I was at its rear, with the general. I didn't find a traitor, Windsor did, and died doing so. I didn't hear the general's last words under fire. I didn't do half of what the media said I did.

And then came the speeches and the holo interviews and the press. God, it could simply be spoken as "Hey soldier, we thank you for fighting for us despite losing all your friends, family, and girlfriend, would you please now tell everyone about peace, joy, and happiness now? Thanks!"

It sure didn't help things in that almost every one of the army force sent out was composed of orphans, men and women from far-out colonies, and people who nobody cared about. Who cared about not having touchy homecoming scenes? We'll just stage a few!

Almost made me happy when the Turians came back.

* * * * *

**September 7, 2159**

**1 Year into the First Contact War**

**Planet Earth**

There is one day I will never forget, and it is when my whole parade came crashing down on me. By then, I was beginning to have second thoughts about the whole media parade. No matter how much the governors and politicians and generals told me how needed my efforts were in returning the world to normal, I didn't like it.

So I signed my Liberty Policy retirement sheet, left the army, found a new girlfriend, and had a happy family til the end of my days. The End.

At least, that was the plan. Then 'they' caught on to it. Apparently, they'd though I'd do it sooner and they brought out a my file and added a few things. All my dark secrets plus the crimes of a few others. Drug abuse during boot camp (One prozac III, got exempted due to family loss), fraternization in a combat situation (My moments with Olivia onship), treason (A book offer from a big holo-star director, come on!), violation of the Geneva convention and Articles of War (COME ON! They're aliens! They didn't sign the damn thing!) plus a lot of others. It wasn't public, and my trial was suspended for a unknown duration of time. In the meantime, under the Liberty Policy, I couldn't leave until that was over with. Woop de frakking doo.

And so, unofficially demoted to lieutenant (still officially a general for the posters) I was forced into more interviews, more magazines, more speeches I then wholeheartedly disagreed with. All under the threat of having the entire world turn on me for things I didn't do.

Then the Turians came back and guess who had to be lock-stepped at gunpoint by the military police to attend the emergency defense meeting?


End file.
